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Both the Orioles and Ripken feared that this season might be overwhelming for him, but it has become quite the opposite. "This is the most relaxed I've seen Cal in years," says Kelly. "He's at peace with himself. He realizes that even though the Streak will always be a part of his identity, it's a positive thing."
WHEN RIPKEN IS ASKED HOW HE'S CHANGED during the Streak, he responds, "Less and grayer hair." But then he gives a more thoughtful answer: "I'm much better with people, kids particularly. When I was young and fans would give me their babies to hold for a picture, the babies always ended up crying. But now that I have kids of my own, I find it easier not only to hold them, but to talk to them. And they ask--no offense--the best questions. Like 'How come you're not crying? How come you're not mad you lost the game?' And I tell them, 'I am mad, but I've learned not to show it.' Or they'll ask, 'What's it like to hit a home run to win the game? Is it the best feeling in the world?' And I tell them, 'It is the best feeling.' The kids reduce the game to its most basic level, and they remind me why it is I love baseball so much."
Travel upriver from Havre de Grace all the way to Cooperstown, and right there on Main Street is a statue of a boy called The Sandlot Kid. He's barefoot, and he's wearing a straw hat. But he holds his bat over his shoulder a little like Cal Ripken. Just one more game.
--With reporting by Brian J. Doyle/Baltimore